


To Tame a Wolf

by Wolf_dog



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Bottom John, Dom Sherlock, Dominant Sherlock, Feral John, M/M, Sub John, Top Sherlock, Werelock, Werewolf John, submissive John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 18:16:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10599492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_dog/pseuds/Wolf_dog
Summary: John is a wild wolf that Sherlock finds in the trap of a hunter. Sherlock saves him and takes care of him.-.-.-.-.-.-.The human leant forward, his eyes and scent turning dark and dangerous, as if he’d heard the direction John’s thoughts had taken. “Don’t test me,” he spoke in a low rumble that had John’s fur rippling down his spine, “I could have just as easily left you there to die. I can and will overpower you if you fight me.”John blinked slowly and met the human’s gaze for a few long, tense seconds, before he dropped his gaze and his tail, walking forward until he was at the human’s feet. There, he sat, and rested his head cautiously on the human’s thigh.“Good boy,” the human murmured, his scent turning light and pleased, and long fingers sunk into John’s thick fur, caressing him tenderly.John could feel the tension easing out of him at the gentle affection, his eyes closing. He felt safe, and secure. This human Alpha would care for him and protect him, John could sense it. And in turn, John would devote himself to his Alpha.





	

John was born and raised in a wild wolf pack. They lived deep in the forest, and never went anywhere near human civilisation. John was taught that humans were greedy, nasty things that were never to be trusted. John had been the runt of a litter of six, but had quickly outgrown the rest of his littermates, and that of the Alpha. But even though John was the biggest, he never desired to lead the pack. He wasn’t an Alpha. He just wanted to follow the orders of his pack Alpha and to be as useful as he could to the pack. The pack Alpha was kind and tolerated John and treated him the same as all of the other wolves.

But, John wasn’t the same as the others, he had a closely-guarded secret that set him apart from the rest; he could turn into a human. John hated it, and he did his best to never transform anywhere near his pack. At least once every two moons, John’s body would betray him and he would turn into his hated human form. It was weak and pathetic, no claws or fangs, his eye sight was terrible and worst of all he had no protective fur. Whenever he felt the change tingling at the base of his tail, he would run as far away from the pack whilst still being in their territory, and wait it out until he was able to turn into his wolf form once more. John also discovered that he could understand the human language. He’d overhead hunters one day, and realised with surprise that the noises they were making was a language that he could understand. It because yet another secret.

John was a fighter and a healer of the pack. Because of his size, he was a formidable fighter, and it was easy for him to overpower most of the wolves that came to try and steal their territory for another pack, and he had scars all over his body to boast the number of battles that he had been in and survived. And yet, John had an affinity for knowing what plants were useful for healing. John was a faster healer than the rest of his packmates, and therefore never used any of the herbs for himself, but used them to make his packmates stronger.

Then had come the day that John’s pack Alpha was killed in a fight with another pack. Their Alpha had been getting old, and it was better than he’d died fighting rather than succumbing to old age. But, the Alpha of the other pack had taken one look at John after claiming victory and the pack, and had run John off.

John ran for days and days, well aware that the new Alpha was hot on his heels, and it was only when John left the territory that the Alpha turned back. John kept running. John was smart and fit, and knew how to take care of himself. He only stopped for water or food before he kept on going. He wanted to run until he reached a place where there were no more wolves, somewhere that John could be alone.

He ended up on the outskirts of the forest, loping through the trees and glancing at the occasional human dwellings that he saw every now and then. They were few and far between, surrounded by fences that encased large swathes of land.

He had gotten complacent, and that was when he got caught in the trap. It was of human design, obviously, with sharp, gleaming silver teeth that snapped shut on John’s leg. John’s hatred of humans had never been higher. He was only just on the outskirts of another pack’s territory, and being trapped here out in the open was not good. There were only a few sparse trees, no water nearby and no sign of any kind of food – obviously scared off by hunters. John knew it wouldn’t take long for hunters to come around and check their traps, and John would be ready.

Except, no humans came. The sun went up, then the moon rose, then the sun went up and set, over and over again. John could smell that the wound the trap caused was infected, the sharp bitterness making him want to gag, and he was developing the hazy-sight that came from an infected wound, doubled by his hunger and thirst.

He was trapped, wounded and vulnerable.

Then a human approached. John had stopped counting the days by then, but he knew that he was fading quickly and that he would more than likely die here. The sound of boots walking up the hill towards him took a few minutes before it processed in John’s delirious brain, and he blinked his eyes open, ears pricking. He had accepted his fate by this point and was lying down as comfortably as he could, but he would rather die of infection than let a hunter get him.

A human appeared, and though John couldn’t focus on it properly, he was sure it was a male. Pale, with dark hair and sharp eyes. John snarled savagely, warning the human to back off. John would tear him limb from limb if he didn’t.

The human kept walking closer, not seeming to care about John’s threat. John bared his teeth, lip pulling up and away from his teeth as a threatening growl rumbled through him.

“Enough,” the human spoke, voice sharp with command, “You couldn’t do anything to me, not in the state you’re in, so shut up.”

John didn’t blink, but he sniffed the air thoroughly. Human, male, recently eaten. John could also smell the slightest hint of concern, but it was almost masked by the strong scent of fascination and curiosity. And yet, there was no smell of weapons of any kind on him. Not a hunter, then. This didn’t make John any more comfortable around him. This was a human, who was not to be trusted. John’s hackles rose as the human kept walking forward, and John made an aborted lunge, snapping his teeth, falling on the defensive as panic started to curl in him.

He would _not_ die at the hands of a human!

“Relax, I’m not going to kill you,” the human snorted, as if offended. “I’ve never seen a wolf so large before, nor one that’s lasted so long in a hunter’s trap. Nasty things, they are, you should be glad that I disposed of the hunters otherwise you’d be long dead. They keep coming here, onto _my_ territory to set up traps like the one you fell prey to.”

That stopped John short, his growl fading away in confusion, sniffing the air again. No, this was definitely a human. Yet, he acted and spoke like an Alpha. If he were a wolf, John would have instantly recognised him as one, and yet he was a human. And this human had killed the hunters? John’s head tilted, relying on his other senses to bring him more information about this human, seeing as his sight was fuzzy and he couldn’t focus on anything. He focused in on the human’s heartrate, and it was steady. Not lying, then. His nose picked up the faintest scent of human blood - , no, two different kind of human blood. Two hunters, going by the smell of the metallic weapons that humans used.

Curious, John wanted to get closer, to know more about this strange Alpha-like human, but he was also wary. Even if it had killed the hunters, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t harm John.

He gave a low growl as the human reached out to him, almost close enough to touch.

John received a growl in return, and then he found himself on his back, a long-fingered hand pressing firmly on his throat, and another hand on his vulnerable belly. John was shocked. He’d never exposed his belly to anyone, not even the Alpha that he’d grown up with. John snarled in outrage a moment later, struggling to land any kind of injury on this human, but the hands held him down firmly, and when he tried to cover his exposed genitals with his tail, he received a snarl of warning before the hand on his belly gripped his genitals firmly. John stilled instantly, hardly breathing as the human leant down and sniffed at him. He was sniffed on the throat, behind his ears, along his belly, at his genitals, and finally at his tail. The human took his time too, before sitting back slightly, smelling pleased and approving, his hand sliding to rest on John’s belly once more.

“You’re perfect. I’m going to get you out of this trap and take you home, and heal up that nasty injury of yours. You are mine from this moment on,” the human told John, his voice full of authority.

John stiffened, mind whirling. He belonged to this human? John hadn’t agreed to that. And yet, as the hand on his belly began to stroke the fur there tenderly, he couldn’t help but think that this felt _right,_ somehow. He’d never been truly satisfied in his pack. The Alpha there had never made John submit to him like this. This human called him perfect, and smelled possessive already, like John would be the only one. No other packmates to compete for attention. Just him, and this human of an Alpha. The thought felt good, and John’s hackles flattened, lip settling into place over his teeth. John squirmed, and this time he was allowed to do so, until he was leaning up and licking at this strange Alpha’s jaw, showing his respect. Whilst he wasn’t entirely sure that he trusted the human, it couldn’t hurt to belong somewhere, right? Even if it was with a human.

The human caressed John’s cheek in response, his scent spiking with pleasure, and then John was being moved until the human had access to the trap. John’s would had swelled up around it, and a spike of anger came from the human.

“This will hurt, a lot,” he was told, bluntly, and didn’t have even a moment to prepare himself before the human was wrenching open the teeth of the trap.

John howled in pain, and bolted backwards the second he was free. His head spun at the sudden movement, his blurry vision turning black.

*.*.*.*.*

John faded in and out of consciousness for a long time, aware that he was being tended to, and that he was lying on the comfiest thing he had ever slept on, but nothing more than that. Sometimes, he would hear the low rumble of a voice, and it was comforting.

When John finally awoke properly, he felt way better. Without opening his eyes, he mentally probed at his body, sussing out how he felt. He was well rested, his belly full and his thirst was quenched, the injury on his shoulder felt stiff and sore, but overall not too bad. Opening his eyes, John turned his head to gaze at his injury critically. It had scabbed over what looked like a few days ago, so it wouldn’t easily open, and the bitter scent of infection was gone. Satisfied, John twisted his head to analyse where he was, only to discover that he had absolutely no clue about any of what he was looking at. He was lying on something soft, a pale blue colour, but it was also firm and elevated off the ground, supported by smooth wood. He could see square lumps of wood in various places near him, but he had no idea what any of it was. Obviously a humans things. Inhaling deeply, John recognised the scent of the human Alpha that had rescued him. Even though the fact that he’d had to _be_ rescued rankled John, he had to admit that the Alpha had been taking good care of him. John felt better than he’d felt in moons, and he was grateful to the human. John would be loyal to him for taking care of him like this.

Cautiously, John heaved himself upright, unsure whether either his leg would hold him up, nor whether whatever he was lying on could withstand his weight. Warily, John jumped down from the softness, tucking his injured leg up under his body and landing with three paws. Curious, John sniffed around the room first, before leaving the comfortably dark den and exploring the rest of the human dwelling. John recognised none of the things inside, but it smelt heavily of the human Alpha. This was obviously where he lived. And there were no other scents of others. This pleased John immensely.

John was quick to discover that wood covered all of the exits, and no amount of shoving would make them budge. How did humans get in and out of these blasted things?

Just as John was beginning to panic, one of the bit of wood opened, and in walked the human Alpha, smelling of delicious raw meat. His mouth watered, and John licked his lips, but was hesitant to approach, slinking behind a long object that was resting between the wall and the rest of the room. John watched cautiously as the human moved around the dwelling, placing the meat into something that was white and smelled cold, then turning and touched something that started making the bubbling noise of a fast-running stream. John was curious despite himself, but didn’t move, staying hidden in the dark and observing for now.

After a while, the human came into the section of the dwelling where John was hiding, and sat down on a sharp-lined object that smelt like leather. “You’ll have to come out if you want some of this,” the human spoke, sounding amused, and holding up a piece of meat, blood still dripping from it.

John’s stomach growled and his mouth watered in want. Cautiously, John slunk out of the shadows, gazing up at the human, taking in every detail for the first time. He was wearing some kind of black material to cover his skin, though his feet were bare and the material had been rolled up at his forearms. His hair was black curls, and his sharp eyes a piercing blue that seemed to see right through John and straight into his soul. His lips looked soft, and the glimpse of teeth he’d seen when the human had spoken seemed dull. His skin was pale, as if he didn’t spend a lot of time in the sun. And yet, as vulnerable as the human looked, John remembered the strength that was hidden in those wiry muscles as the human had pinned him down with ease. Of course, John had been in a lot of pain at the time and unable to move properly.

The human leant forward, his eyes and scent turning dark and dangerous, as if he’d heard the direction John’s thoughts had taken. “Don’t test me,” he spoke in a low rumble that had John’s fur rippling down his spine, “I could have just as easily left you there to die. I can and will overpower you if you fight me.”

John blinked slowly and met the human’s gaze for a few long, tense seconds, before he dropped his gaze and his tail, walking forward until he was at the human’s feet. There, he sat, and rested his head cautiously on the human’s thigh.

“Good boy,” the human murmured, his scent turning light and pleased, and long fingers sunk into John’s thick fur, caressing him tenderly.

John could feel the tension easing out of him at the gentle affection, his eyes closing. He felt safe, and secure. This human Alpha would care for him and protect him, John could sense it. And in turn, John would devote himself to his Alpha.

After several long minutes of gentle petting, John’s stomach growled again and he let out a soft whine of pleading, glancing up at the Alpha. John was hungry, and the bloody meat was inches away from his mouth, but he didn’t dare take any.

The human’s mouth curled into a slow smile, and he picked up a non-bloody piece and ate it as John watched. Then, those pale fingers picked up a bloody piece, and offered it to John. As hungry as John was, he was careful in taking the piece, making sure not to even accidentally nip the human’s fingers. And oh, it was absolutely delicious! John’s tail wagged happily on the floor behind him, earning a soft laugh from his Alpha. This went on for a while, the Alpha taking a piece, then feeding one to John.

John had ever felt more content then he did now, being hand-fed pieces of met by his Alpha.

*.*.*.*.*

For the next few days, John rested and recovered. He limped around the flat after his Alpha, who bathed him, brushed him, fed him, played with him. When John’s leg had recovered enough that he stopped limping so much, they left the den for the first time. His Alpha had a large expanse of land, it seemed, with plenty of grass to run in, and lots of trees to hunt in. There were two steps out of the den before John bolted. His legs ate up the grass easily, and it felt so good to be outside again! He could smell so much, but he was on a mission. He heard footsteps behind him, but John knew the human would never catch up. And that was okay.

He headed straight for the trees, then stilled, listening intently. The human was a way’s away. Perfect. Next, John sunk down in a crouch and waited. Before long, his prey darted in front of him, and John snatched up the rabbit quickly, crunching down hard and breaking its neck. He didn’t eat it yet, though. He listened again. The human was approaching the forest fast, and John was running out of time. He darted back to the rabbit and picked it up, then slunk under a bush and waited, barely resisting wagging his tail.

As soon as his Alpha appeared, John leapt out, paws outstretched and panting happily. He landed right in front of the Alpha, then danced around him, yipping excitedly before dashing off again, slower this time. They’d played the game of chase around the small den before, so John wasn’t aware that anything was wrong until his Alpha caught up and tackled him. John was surprised dropping the rabbit, as this wasn’t part of the game, and then John was being snarled at and roughly turned over, his Alpha straddling his stomach and holding his neck bared by a hand on his jaw.

His playfulness and excitement waning, John whined in question. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. He’d just wanted to play. His tail thumped on the ground to appease his Alpha somewhat. His Alpha who was panting and stunk of anger and possessiveness.

“You _dared_ to run from me?” his voice was quiet and shaking with anger, “After all the care I gave you, the first taste of freedom you get, you run.”

John’s eyes widened in shock, and he shook his head, whining. That wasn’t what had happened at all!

“Don’t deny it!” his Alpha snarled, furious, “You ran from me!”

John whined, desperate, and pointed his nose at the rabbit, yipping softly.

John couldn’t see his Alpha’s face like this, but the tight grip on his jaw loosened slightly. “A rabbit?” he didn’t sound as impressed as John had hoped. “You bolted from me for a _rabbit?_ ”

John’s ears drooped. His Alpha didn’t like his gift? John whining turned to sad whimpering, and the hands on him loosened a little more. Cautious with his freedom, John turned his head and nudged the rabbit again, then nudged his human. It was for his Alpha.

It took a few moments, before a soft “ _Oh_ ,” of understanding came from his Alpha. “It’s for me?” he asked, and John nodded his head, tail thumping slightly faster against the forest floor.

Hands cupped his furry cheeks and tilted his head up to meet his Alpha’s gaze. “Thank you, John,” he was told softly.

John hadn’t had a name before he’d been in his Alpha’s care, and he was getting used to having one. John smiled happily and licked his Alpha’s face. He was given a soft smile and those lovely fingers stroked through his fur.

“If the rabbit was for me, then why did you run when I caught up to you?” he was asked and John grinning, making the playful noise he always did when they played and watched his Alpha’s eyes widened as he realised John had been playing.

“Well then, do you want to continue playing?” his Alpha asked with an indulgent smile, and John nodded his head eagerly, squirming under his Alpha.

“I’ll give you a two second start,” he told John as he got up, grinning.

Woofing softly, John turned and ran happily.

They played chase for the rest of the day, before returning back to the den with the rabbit, which they ate that night, then curled up in bed together contentedly.

*.*.*.*.*

The next day, John woke from his nap behind what he’d learned to be a sofa, to the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Instantly alert, his ears pricked as he sniffed the air. It was another human, smelling of the same family as his Alpha. Littermates, then. It still made John uncomfortable that there was someone else in their territory. His eyes caught sight of his Alpha’s bare feet coming in to the room, then a pair of feet enclosed in black polished leather.

“Really, Sherlock, I don’t understand why you insist on living out here,” his Alpha’s littermate sighed, coming and sitting on the sofa John was hiding behind, and his hackles raised.

“Obviously, the trip wasn’t enough to deter you, so what do you want Mycroft?” his Alpha asked with a sigh of boredom, though John could smell that he was cautious.

“I want you to come back to the city,” the other human – Mycroft – said bluntly, irritation colouring his tone, “You’ve had your fun, now come back and stop this tantrum at once Sherlock.”

Sherlock let out a controlled breath, and John tensed, waiting to see what his Alpha would do. John didn’t want Sherlock to leave their den. Or to leave John.

“I will return,” Sherlock said, and John’s heart stopped in devastation, “On one condition. John must come with me.”

“John?” There was confusion and irritation in Mycroft’s voice, “Who is John?”

There was a satisfied curl to Sherlock’s scent at Mycroft’s confusion. “John is my pet and I won’t leave him behind,” his Alpha told his littermate firmly.

“You named your pet _John?_ ” Mycroft asked, incredulous, then sighed heavily. “Let’s see this John, then.”

Sherlock’s fingers snapped together and John stood instantly, slinking out from behind the couch, every move calculated and distinctly that of a predator, his eyes not leaving Mycroft as he stalked over to Sherlock and lay down at his feet.

Mycroft’s eyes were wide, fearing spiking in his scent at the sight of John.

“That… that _beast_ is your pet?” he asked, voice sounding slightly faint, “he’s huge!”

“John is a wolf, and I ask that you don’t insult him,” Sherlock reprimanded sharply, his hand coming down and stroking John’s ears tenderly.

John turned slightly into the contact, but didn’t take his gaze away from Mycroft, never blinking.

“You’d never get him to stay cooped up in a flat,” Mycroft said bluntly, regaining a bit of strength back.

“John will stay wherever I want him to. He is loyal to me,” Sherlock said, pride swirling through the air and John’s body relaxed slightly, pleased that his Alpha like him so much.

“No landlord would allow such a pet,” Mycroft said, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Then I won’t return. Either find me somewhere that John and I can stay, or stop bugging me, brother mine,” Sherlock said, huffing.

Mycroft’s eyes turned away from John and back to Sherlock. “Can’t you just leave him? Let him go back to the wild where he belongs and you can come back to London where you belong?” he suggested mildly.

John leapt to his feet, baring his teeth, ears flat against his head as he growled threateningly, taking a threatening step forward. He _dared_ to try and tear them apart? John would rip him limb from limb if he tried!

“John,” he Alpha said commandingly, and John stilled, his growl ceasing but he kept his hackles raised and teeth bared, eyes locked onto Mycroft who had turned pale and pressed back into the sofa. “As you can see, that’s not going to happen. John is _mine_. Don’t try and break us apart, Mycroft. Otherwise I might not stop John next time.”

“Sherlock,” Mycroft began, and John lunged forward, furious, but was stopped by firm hands on his scruff jerking him backwards.

John fought, wanting to sink his teeth into Mycroft’s flesh, and he quickly found himself on his back, a knee on his belly and a hand on his throat. Stilling instantly, John submitted to his Alpha.

Sherlock leaned down until his lips were at John’s ear, and murmured, “I’m flattered, but it is _my_ job to protect _you_. Nothing will tear us apart, not Mycroft and not anything else. So let me deal with it.” The last sentence had steel in the words, and John submitted to them with a soft whine and a thump of his tail.

When Sherlock got off of him, John rolled onto his belly instantly, twisting to glare at Mycroft. Whilst John would willingly bare his vulnerable parts to his Alpha, he would never do it for anyone else.

Mycroft was quick to leave after that, and John was glad to see him go.

*.*.*.*.*

A week passed, and John began to relax again. Sherlock had left the den quite a while ago, smelling of excitement. John was bored waiting for him, and had napped, dozing on the sofa under the warm sunlight, and woke up when Sherlock burst into the den, positively reeking of possessiveness and joy.

Curious, John sat up and whined questioningly. Sherlock strode over to him with a feral grin on his face, and something shiny in his hands. It was silver, and looked like slender linked chains. There was a round tag hanging off of it that was red and had _Sherlock’s property_ inscribed on it in black writing. John tilted his head, and Sherlock reached out, sliding John’s head through the middle of the linked chains and then let go. It settled comfortably on John’s neck, not too tight, but tight enough for John to not be able to forget its presence or for it to fall off.

“This is your collar, John,” Sherlock told him, stroking the metal possessively, “It shows that you are mine, and that no one can harm you without having to deal with me.”

John shivered, stretching up and licking Sherlock’s jaw in thanks. He liked being so obviously claimed as Sherlock’s. It felt right, the same way that he’d felt when he’d submitted to Sherlock for the first time.

*.*.*.*.*

Not long after that, they moved to London. John was less than pleased, but Sherlock was ecstatic, so John didn’t protest. The den that they moved in to was tall, and it had steps that John had to climb up that irritated his bad leg, but Sherlock was so happy that again, John couldn’t complain. It was smaller than their last den, but the sleeping section was larger, as was the main section. There was an old human female that lived below them, and she wandered up occasionally, but she was harmless, so John ignored her for the most part.

But the den was small, and it didn’t take his Alpha long to release that John would go crazy being cooped up all the time. So, they went on regular walks and runs. The issue with being outside of the den, was that it was loud and crowded, and everyone stared at John. It irritated him, but he knew Sherlock would never let him harm these humans. So, he ignored their stares and contented himself with staying by his Alpha’s side.

Sherlock was away a lot. He left for long periods of time, and sometimes came back distracted, and forgot to feed John occasionally, until John begged for food, and then he would smell of guilt and would feed John a bit more than normal and take him out for a long run.

One day, Sherlock hadn’t returned home and the moon was rising, so John went down stairs and whined at the door until the lady (Mrs Hudson, as he’d heard her being referred to as), opened it up for him. John slipped out, his fur spiking uncomfortably. This was the first time he’d been out of the den without Sherlock, and he wasn’t quite sure how Sherlock would react, but he was worried about his Alpha and needed to see him.

John followed Sherlock’s scent trail a long way, grateful that most humans returned to their dens at night, loping along the hard ground until the scent grew a lot stronger. And mixed with a lot of other scents. Scents that carried the distinct smell of human weapons. Alarmed, John bolted into a wide den to find his Alpha cornering a human, his back to the line of humans that held up weapons. Slinking forward silently, noting that none of the humans had noticed him yet, he watched as the human his Alpha was approaching bolted away from the line of humans, but straight into John.

John snarled and pinned the human down easily, flinching as there were several loud shouts that echoed in the spacious den. John crouched down over the human, teeth bared and hackles raised. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew that his Alpha had been trying to capture the human under him.

“Don’t shoot!” his Alpha’s voice broke through the haze in John’s brain, sounding panicked. “Don’t shoot, he’s _mine_!”

Sherlock sprinted forward, placing himself between John and the weapons. His heartrate was faster than John had ever heard it, and he smelt scared.

John whined, confused. He didn’t know what was going on. Without turning to face him, Sherlock reached back and placed a calming hand on John’s head.

“What d’you mean, he’s yours?” One of the humans asked, cautiously lowering his weapon.

“This is John. He’s my pet,” Sherlock said, chin tilting up in defiance, “And he just caught the serial killer you almost let get away with four murders!”

At a nod from the human that spoke, the rest slowly lowered their weapons. All but two. “That’s not a pet! That’s a wild animal!” One protested, a female with dark hair.

“He’s _mine_ ,” his Alpha snarled in a low rumble, “And if you hurt a single hair on him, it will be the last thing you do, Sally. And you, Anderson.”

Sherlock’s threat made them hesitate, before reluctantly stowing away their weapons. Slowly, the humans began to trickle out through the entrance, until it was just him, his Alpha, a greying human, and the one under him.

Satisfied, his Alpha turned to him and knelt down, cupping John’s face in his hands and looked him over thoroughly, as if looking for injury.

“Are you okay, John?” Sherlock asked softly, still smelling faintly of fear.

John gave a soft rumble of comfort and a nod, pressing his nose gently to Sherlock’s cheek.

“Did he just nod?” came a shocked voice, and John glanced past his Alpha to the one that had spoken, assessing him to see if he was a threat.

“John is special,” Sherlock said simply, not turning around, and gently nudging John’s jaw until he was looking at his Alpha once more. “How did you get outside, John?”

John ducked his head sheepishly and gave a soft whine, and Sherlock laughed softly. “Ah, yes, Mrs Hudson would let you out if she thought you needed to go to the toilet,” Sherlock said in clear amusement, and John wagged his tail, glad his Alpha wasn’t mad. “However, you could have been hurt, John. I don’t know what I’d do if you were hurt,” Sherlock continued, voice lowering until only John could hear him, and John whimpered, rubbing his face against Sherlock’s in comfort.

As much as he adored his Alpha, he hated being cooped up in the flat without Sherlock.

Sherlock sighed and nodded his head. “Alright, I suppose you could come with me to crime scenes, as long as you behave,” his Alpha said and John perked up instantly, tail wagging faster.

“Oi! Hang on, Sherlock,” the older human protested, “You can’t just bring your pet along to crime scenes! He’d tamper with the evidence!”

Sherlock stood swiftly and turned. “Lestrade, John would not ruin any of the evidence, and he will help me think. He’s already proved more adept at catching criminals than most of your officers,” Sherlock said sharply, seemingly ready for a fight.

John had no doubt it would have escalated into one, if not for the human protesting underneath him, “Hey! Get this thing off of me!”

John snarled in warning, but stepped off of the human as Sherlock gestured for him to, and Lestrade quickly restrained him.

“We’ll talk about this later, Sherlock,” Lestrade promised, and Sherlock nodded his head shortly.

“Come along, John, let’s go to the park before heading home,” his Alpha said, leading him out of the den.

*.*.*.*.*

John had almost forgotten about the change until he felt it tingling at his body. He felt panic lace through him and he bolted upright from where he’d been napping on the sofa whilst he waited for Sherlock to return from who knows where. A glance outside showed the sun setting, and he knew he didn’t have long. He’d have to get out and get somewhere safe before Sherlock got home and tried to find him.

Instantly, John bolted down the stairs and managed to open the door by himself, dashing outside and as far away from the den as he could. He made it quite a way before he collapsed in a park, surrounded by trees, and felt the transformation force its way through his body.

For a while he lay there, panting and sweating, before he finally stood on two shaky feet. He walked through the trees, stumbling occasionally as he tried to get used to his centre of balance being different, until he stumbled across some of the material that most humans seemed to wear. It was hung up on some kind of thread attached to a metal pole in the ground, and John was quick to steal the material and flee. He struggled for quite a bit to get everything on, but finally he seemed to look just like a normal human. He knew he would be stuck like this until the moon rose the next day, and he wanted to go and checked on Sherlock to make sure his Alpha was okay. The collar he had been giving was hanging loosely around his neck, somehow getting tucked under the material he was wearing, and it was a bit odd for it to not be snug around his neck. But it was better than not having it on at all. John loved his collar.

He made his way back to the park and froze in shock as he saw his Alpha there, frowning. John hid behind a tree, heart pounding quickly. He didn’t want his Alpha to see him like this. Not that John thought he would recognise him, but because John abhorred his human form. His old pack would have kicked him out if he’d ever let them see him in this form, and he didn’t want to risk Sherlock seeing him like this.

But, of course, his Alpha found him.

“Hello,” he was greeted civilly, but there was clear worry in Sherlock’s eyes, a slight frown on his face and he had wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that only ever appeared when he was stressed, “I’m looking for my pet. Have you seen him?”

John’s eyes widened and he shook his head mutely, backing away. Whilst he could understand humans, he didn’t know how to talk like one.

Sherlock’s gaze sharpened, and he stepped closer. “You _have_ seen him,” Sherlock observed, and his tone became fierce, “Where is he?”

John shook his head quickly again, still backing up as his Alpha advanced on him. Then, Sherlock’s gaze flickered over his body, stilling on his neck for a second too long. “What’s this?” Sherlock murmured, reaching out as if to touch his collar, and John bolted without a second thought.

If Sherlock had revealed the collar, then it would all be over. Sherlock would run him off, and John would be left with nothing.

*.*.*.*.*

The second time John transformed, he was a little more prepared. Sherlock had yet again been gone for a few hours, and John slipped out as the sun set, going to a different park this time, one that was further away in hope that it would deter Sherlock.

No such luck.

Yet again, Sherlock came looking for him within an hour of John transforming. John had stashed the clothes from last time and was wearing the same thing this time. There were more people around this time, which John was grateful for, as it let him blend into the crows and slip away without Sherlock seeing him. He hated that he was deceiving his Alpha like this and running from him, but he couldn’t bear facing the possibility that Sherlock would want him to leave after finding out.

The third time, John returned to the flat. Well, not quite. He sat on the bench facing the flat and watched the dark flat, wanting to go in a curl up with Sherlock, but knowing that he couldn’t. He was too lost in watching the flat for signs of his Alpha to notice someone approaching him from behind, until it was too late. A hand clamped down on his shoulder and John bolted out of the seat, teeth bared in a defensive snarl that died on his lips as he realised he was snarling at his Alpha. His gaze turned down then to the side, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I’ve seen you around a lot lately,” Sherlock said, his voice lightly curious on the outside, but it held the kind of steel in it that John tried to avoid.

John shrugged, licking his lips nervously as he glanced up at Sherlock to see him studying him.

“You recognise me. Your body language indicates that you are familiar with me, and yet I _know_ that we’ve never interacted except for once,” Sherlock told him, voice hardening, “And yet you also look like you want to run away from me. Are you hiding something? Something to do with my dog, perhaps?”

“Wolf,” John blurted out, then his eyes widened and he stepped back. He hadn’t even known that he could speak like a human. But being referred to as a dog had rankled him, and his mouth had reacted before he could think.

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed, glittering dangerously, “Yes, I know exactly what he is. Most people mistake him for a dog, but not you. Why do you know so much about my pet?” Sherlock asked, and John knew that he had just failed some kind of test.

John turned and bolted in fear. He could hear the sounds of his Alpha following him, but even as a human, John was still faster. Eventually, John could no longer hear Sherlock’s footsteps behind him, and he slowed cautiously. This felt a little too much like when they played chase, and Sherlock would hide or go another way to throw John off and catch him. As soon as the thought hit him, John turned away from the direction he’d been heading in, choosing a new destination instantly to try and throw Sherlock off.

Not long after, he heard footsteps behind him again. So, he’d been right. Sherlock hadn’t given up, but had instead tried to trick John into thinking that he had. Despite himself, John could feel himself getting excited. This kind of chase was thrilling and dangerous, especially since Sherlock had no idea that it was John he was chasing. And John was happy that Sherlock cared about him so much that he would chase a seeming stranger around London to get answers.

He listened behind him as Sherlock turned down an alley, then there was the sound of crashing and Sherlock exclaiming in pain. Stilling instantly, John swivelled on his heel and bolted for where Sherlock had gone, worry filling him. Had Sherlock been hurt?

He bolted into the alley, seeing a knocked over shiny round thing, and Sherlock on the floor. Letting out a soft cry, John raced over to him, kneeling down and trying to see what damage had been done. Except, he couldn’t see any. The second John realised he’d been tricked, Sherlock lunged upwards and tackled John to the ground, straddling his waist and keeping him pinned.

Sherlock had done this to him so many times at the end of chases that John didn’t even struggle, submitting under Sherlock’s weight and tilting his head back to bare his throat to his Alpha.

A hand slid up his chest, then fished under and pulled out the collar. Instantly, Sherlock stilled and his scent turned dark and dangerous.

“Where did you get this? What did you do to John?” Sherlock voice was quiet, but so deadly that John shivered, swallowing and tilting his head back further instinctively.

“Tell me!” Sherlock shouted, letting go of the collar and fisting the material at John’s chest, forcing him upright. “What have you done to John? I swear, if you’ve hurt him, you’ll pay for it!”

Sherlock’s chest was heaving, and his fear was so strong that John could smell it even though he was a human, but his face was twisted with rage. John whined low in his throat and leant forward, licking Sherlock’s jaw to try and calm him and assure him that he was okay.

Sherlock stilled, and he seemed confused. Then, he shook his head as if to get rid of pesky thoughts, and asked again, “Where is John?”

Wondering if he would be able to speak again, John reached up and patted Sherlock’s face gently, “Sherrrrl’ck,” then patted at his own chest and said, “John.”

Whilst he was terrified of Sherlock’s reaction, he knew that he couldn’t run anymore – figuratively and literally.

Sherlock frowned confusion, seemingly torn between wanting to keep demanding answers, and accepting the one that he’d been given. “You can’t be John. John is a wolf. _My_ wolf. You’re a human,” he told John, though he didn’t seem quite so certain, and his tight grip on John loosened slightly.

Gently, John eased Sherlock’s fingers away from the material, then pushed the material down his shoulder until his scars were revealed. “Sherrlock save John. John sick, Sherrlock heal. Sherlock Alpha. Mycroft want Sherlock London. Sherlock no leave John, bring John London. Mycroft scared,” John chuckled lightly, “John get bad human. Lestrade no like John. Sherlock like John. Sherlock no leave John?”

John turned wide, pleading eyes up at his Alpha. He didn’t want to be run off by his Alpha.

Sherlock looked stunned, eyes glued to the scars on John’s shoulder, fingers ghosting over it gently. “After eliminating the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth,” Sherlock murmured to himself, then looked up and met John’s eyes.

His hands came up and cupped John’s face, turning it gently from side to side before smiling, which quickly turned into a grin. “Oh, John this is brilliant! I always knew you were special, but this is amazing! Now I never have to leave you behind, because you can come with me like this! We’ll never be apart, never!” Sherlock declared triumphantly, before his face swooped down and his lips claimed John’s.

John had no idea what to do, but it felt amazing. His eyes half-closed and he turned his face up into the attention, mouth parting and then made a sound of shock as Sherlock’s tongue licked into his mouth, possessively claiming every inch as his own. Eventually, Sherlock pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face, and John blinked up at him dazedly.

“You are mine John, and now I can claim you in more ways,” Sherlock whispered to him tenderly, stroking his fingers through John’s hair in the way that always made John melt into him.

“Yours,” he agreed. “John always Sherlock’s.”

*.*.*.*.*

From then on, Sherlock taught John how to read, write, and talk. He bought John clothes and taught him how to be human. Of course, John still preferred to be a wolf, and as a compromise he spent the day as a human and night as a wolf. He liked that Sherlock liked his human form, and Sherlock proudly showed John off, taking him outside and declaring to anyone who questioned why John was there, that John was _his_.

Sherlock kissed him a lot, and John had to admit that he loved the sensation of being owned. Slowly, Sherlock moved from kissing, to petting his body, to jerking him off, to teaching John how to suck him, to fucking John.

And oh, John did love to be fucked. The first time had hurt a bit, but it was a pleasurable pain that John had felt for days afterwards and it was amazing. When they got home from an exciting end to a case, Sherlock would bend him over the closest surface, strip John naked, unzip his own pants, and thrust straight into John. It never took long for John to find his own release, and sometimes Sherlock would withhold it from him until John was a begging, pleading, whimpering mess, and only then would Sherlock grant him his release.

They solved crimes together, chased down criminals together, and everything was absolutely perfect. John loved Sherlock with all his heart, and he knew that his Alpha loved him in return.

Truly, there was nothing better than being by his Alpha’s side for the rest of their lives.

 

FIN


End file.
